Friday, August 17, 2012

I Really Wasn't that Drunk...Protested the Drunk!

When we somehow managed to crawl out of the hotel the next morning we walked out into absolutely fucking soaking, pouring, you-have-to-be-kidding-me waterfall-type monsoon rain. It was everywhere. There was no sign that it was going to let up. Since it was late enough for us to be hungry, we decided to go and try to find some food to eat, as we knew that there was not much to eat at the festival. (Also all the eating places were outside and we figured they  might be rained out.)

This meant we waded down the sidewalk looking for a restaurant in an area absolutely none of us were familiar with. It was the black dark of monsoon rains in Korea and we could barely see anything; we were huddled tight under the centers of our umbrellas. At a corner, about to give up, the Author called out, “How about this Indian place?”

We all turned around and sure enough there was a sign for a place that did Indian, and while the place was dark and a little warm and out of the way, it was exactly what we needed, so we ate the food that they gave to us and discussed how we wanted to play day 2 of the rock festival.

It was agreed that we had had enough of stage squatting and so we would do something a little different. I also knew we were going to meet up with the Kiterunner at the show and she would have seats. “I’m too fucking old to stand all fucking night for something like this, man. I got seat,” she'd shouted at me over the phone.

“That’s cool. We will meet you at the seats.”

We figured since we had not explored the potential for drunken revelry the previous day we would hit the Jack Daniels tent and get beer for the boys and booze for us girls. Had I been a smarter woman, I just would have found a place to buy a bottle of vodka, because I know (I have empirical proof) that I should NOT be allowed to drink whiskey under any circumstances. However nobody asked and I didn’t tell, which ended with me and the Goth filling up water bottles full of Jack Daniels and bringing them into the concert hall with us.

The boys got plenty of beer.

Then we staked out our spot for the show with the Kiterunner.

“Where’s mine?” She asked when we all showed up, starting on a good slosh. Bottles of whiskey were passed around and we waited for the first act of the afternoon that we wanted to see: The Vaccines.

How can you solve a problem like the Vaccines?  You can’t; they were awesome. We proceeded to drink and take over the bottom row of the balcony section we were at. Literally, we stacked out that territory until we had a full row of about 15 seats for all of us and we proceeded to get our party on. The Vaccines was an awesome, fun singalong show. They were followed shortly later by Foster the People, who also got our blood pumping.

At this point the alcohol was flowing pretty good and I was feeling it just enough to be almost over the edge.

I kept asking people to keep me from jumping. They all knew better than to try to keep me from doing anything, seeing as how drunk we all were. It was all for the best. Sometimes you needed to take care of your ridiculously drunk self on your own. This was one of those times.

After Foster the People the air was full of excitement as we braced for Tears for Fears.

And, while a great show, I remember almost all of it.

I also remember at some point that I had reached my level of ability with whiskey. Then, I went to the bathroom and flushed my phone for good measure.

Finished with the bathroom, I went back to the row and took a nap on the concrete for the hour between Tears for Fears and New Order.

Fortunately, I did realize I should stop drinking. Unfortunately there was not enough water in  the world to cut through the amount of whiskey I had pumped into my veins. I wasn’t alone, as apparently the Roller Girl had to be located via phone after basically losing the ability to walk due to a whisky-and-dancing overdose.

New Order was amazingly perfect and ended with some old Joy Division songs. We somehow managed to get our drunken selves together, meet back up, and head toward our hotel. We somehow managed to let ourselves in, but how the passing out happened was very much unknown.

The show was amazing. I woke up at 4:45 a.m. with a hangover (possibly still drunk) to beat the band, a small annoyed dog stealing blankets, a drunk Irishman snoring and sleeping it off, and the realization that I had to be on a train in 20 minutes to get to Gimcheon (because I thought it would be a good idea to schedule a teacher training that day).

I made the training and everyone thought I was amazing. I don’t remember much of what I did that day.

When I finally managed to get  home at 5, I happily crashed through until the next day.

It was still the best rock festival ever!

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